Steps Towards Healing
by RainingFlowers
Summary: Dangerverse story. 'My BrownEyed Girl' universe, with a few changes, following PoA canon. The infamous Shrieking Shack night in our favourite living as of PoA Marauders' POVs.


**A/N:** Here is my lovely new one-shot, a cross between 'My Brown-Eyed Girl' universe by Anne Walsh which is a spinoff of Dangerverse by Anne Walsh, and normal PoA canon. Please read all three mentioned stories before this one, otherwise you shall be hopelessly confused. Thankees to MercuryBlue144 for beta'ing.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter i'n't mine, neither is Dangerverse. Go figure who they belong to.

* * *

Steps Towards Healing

He had been watching.

Watching, from the sidelines, from the shadows. Watching days go by, watching people go about their business.

Watching life.

And there would be that quickening of heart, shortness of breath, whenever a particular thirteen-year-old, scruffy-haired boy wandered into his view.

The first few times, all he could think of was how much the boy looked like his father. The messy black hair, the glasses…and the feeling of familiarity was only emphasised by the bushy brown hair almost always beside him.

Of course, the original people who triggered the familiarity had not nearly been next to each other so often, but they were mostly friendly and courteous to each other. And as time went by, with people getting closer to one another, a messy black head in the near vicinity of a bushy brown one was not all that uncommon.

How his heart longed for those times…

And the redhead. The Weasley, who owned the rat. How lucky the scum must have thought himself, to become the pet of Harry Potter's best friend. Best friends they must be, with all the times they were next to each other. Vaguely, he wondered if the girl was in any relationship with either of them, but shook it off.

Sirius Black had a mission, and he was going to fulfil it, or else.

* * *

Remus Lupin pulled out a bottle of butterbeer from his cabinet, eyes wandering over to his office window. 

_Getting near sunset…I wonder when Severus will bring the potion around. I've had some doses today and yesterday, but it only actually works when I take it right before moonrise._

Clamping down on the reflexive shudder that came whenever he thought about the taste of the potion and his transformation, he pulled open the cork of the bottle and sat down behind his desk, taking a drink.

_I would have preferred firewhiskey, but who knows if that might affect the potion._

He sighed again, and pulled a blank piece of shabby parchment out of his desk, letting it fall and staring at it dispassionately.

_Sunset, today. The time of Buckbeak's execution, and, if Harry is as much like James as I think he is, then he's going to sneak down, probably with Ron and Hermione in tow under the cloak._

Taking another swig, Remus pulled out his wand and set it next to the parchment.

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_," he intoned, smiling in satisfaction as lines started to appear from under his wand.

He took another swig.

Looking down at the map, he scanned the Gryffindor common room first. Finding it devoid of any Potters or Grangers—although Fred and George Weasley appeared to be holding court—he shifted down to the Great Hall, where a few late eaters were clearing up on their dinner. None of the three there, though.

It didn't take long for him to find three dots, very close together—precisely as though they were under an Invisibility Cloak, in fact—making slow progress through the grounds towards Hagrid's hut.

_So I wasn't wrong. There's not much I can do, other than watch them and raise the alarm in case they get into trouble. Which I wouldn't really put past them._

He scanned for any suspicious dots near the trio and, finding none, took another swig from his bottle. Without realising it, his eyes became drawn to one particular name on the map.

_Hermione Granger._

He was really quite proud of the way he'd kept his distance this year, Remus admitted to himself. He'd been worried, for a few days after the train ride, suddenly struck with the thought that the then thirteen-year-old girl who he'd never met before might remember what had happened on the carriage. However, despite the fact that he knew the girl knew of him and exactly what his past was, she treated him as any other teacher, although he could swear he saw a few sly smiles drifting his way a few times.

_She had thirteen years with Danger in her head. Who knows what they could have talked about…_

He had a sudden urge to reacquaint his forehead with his desk as his mind took those words and twisted them around into something he didn't mean.

"She was thirteen," he said firmly to the wood. "And twelve before that, and eleven before that. There is no way even Danger would talk about things which could mentally scar such a young child."

He still wondered what conversations had taken place between the two sisters, though.

"Chin up, dear, life can't be looking as bad as all that," his mirror chirped. "You're going to have a fantastic bruise, though," it added in a hushed tone.

Remus sat up, casting a dirty look at the offending ornamental piece of furniture. "Thank you." He rubbed his forehead and winced. "I really didn't need a mirror with such amazing divination powers as the one I got," he muttered to himself.

"Oh, you love me really," twittered his mirror, apparently overhearing.

Remus sent it a glare.

It shut up.

Remus checked the map again, seeing that the trio had entered the hut, made sure that they weren't dead or likely to be dead very soon, and went back to his musings.

He'd walked around in a daze for the first few days in September, the depression he'd been in over Sirius lifting unexpectedly. Danger had come back to him. Not in her own body, true, and not for long, also true, but he'd been able to say goodbye properly. He'd observed her sister from a distance, marvelling at how alike they were.

_Well, Hermione did have Danger stuck in her head for almost all of her life…_

That was true, he suddenly thought. Hermione was used to having Danger in her head—what happened afterwards, when her older sister had left? Undoubtedly she knew what had happened and why it had happened, but…

_Hermione had arguments with Harry and Ron this year. Big ones. You noticed them in your class, when they wouldn't speak to each other for weeks—maybe it was a side effect of Hermione suddenly having a big part of her life taken away from her?_

That…made sense, Remus thought, thinking it over. Of course, part of it was hormones and the beginning of growing up—Danger had said herself that it was happening, which was one of the reasons she should have gone—but part of it was, most likely, the little voice that had been in her head for thirteen years suddenly leaving.

_At least I managed to say goodbye…_

He had never gotten over her, Remus realised. He'd killed her murderer and broken contact with her parents, but had lived his days in seclusion, not wanting to admit the amount of time his mind spent on her. Yet after the small meeting in the train, his life had a sense of fulfilment. He had met her again, she didn't hate him, and he knew she'd be waiting for him when the time came.

Those few moments in the carriage—it couldn't have been more than two minutes, yet it felt like so much longer—he could remember everything that had happened, all the thoughts, and conversation they had had. She had left him, again, but once he'd gotten over that, he was so much more content than he had been.

It was probably around now that he should admit to himself that, if it weren't for the fact that he'd moved on in his life in that respect, he wouldn't have been able to concentrate nearly so much on the hunt for Sirius Black.

_I can only deal with one painful piece of past at one time, after all._

He glanced back at the map.

He froze.

_That can't be true,_ he thought dizzily after several moments of empty-headedness. _That can't be right…_

A hand reached out blindly for the bottle of butterbeer that _must_ be around the close vicinity somewhere—skin encountered glass, almost sending the bottle toppling over before the other hand shot out to steady it. Grabbing at the bottle unsteadily, he took another long swig before blinking rapidly to make sure his eyes were still functioning.

_I'm still in the same room—yes, check. Annoying mirror over there, no different from five minutes ago, door over there, like it's always been, I'm sitting in this chair, it feels real enough, this desk should be solid—_he flicked the edge of the wood, just to make sure—_grindylow tank in the corner, teabags and kettle over there…_

_Okay, I think we've established that I'm not hallucinating._

_Maybe it was just a one-moment thing._

Hoping against hope, he let his eyes slide down to the parchment again.

_Dammit._

There, in amongst the three dots labelled _Harry Potter_, _Ronald Weasley_, and _Hermione Granger_, a fourth dot had joined them, labelled _Peter Pettigrew_.

His head fell down again, and he barely winced as his bruise flared with pain.

_Why can't I just have a normal life?_

Movement in the ink dots next to his eye caught his attention, and he sat back up again, studying what was happening. Peter had broken away from them, Ron was running after him—_running after him?_—and the other two were following behind _him_.

They met each other at the Whomping Willow, when movement nearby caught Remus's eye.

A dot labelled _Sirius Black_.

Remus sat, frozen, as Sirius rushed towards the four of them, and presumably dragged Ron and Peter into the Whomping Willow. Then he stood up, grabbing the Map in one hand and the Butterbeer in the other, downing the rest of the latter in two gulps before throwing it aside and dashing out of his office door.

_What the hell? This __is_ normal.

* * *

Sirius could sense the laboured breathing coming from the redhead he was dragging along behind him. He was fully aware of the broken leg that was trailing after them, and that his teeth were biting harder than was technically necessary, but all truth be told, he didn't really care. 

In his nose was the one scent he had been seeking for nearly a year now.

_Peter Pettigrew._

_He couldn't have had a better Animagus form, the rat._

Wormtail was squeaking and trying to break free of the boy's hands, but he was kept in a firm grip of a desperate boy. Sirius didn't worry about the scum getting away.

_And even if he did, I could catch him pretty quickly._

His mind wandered back to his godson and their other friend—who bore an uncanny resemblance to Danger Granger—who presumably were still outside, battling the Whomping Willow.

Was Harry more likely to run for a teacher, he wondered, or come charging straight after his best friend?

Sirius barely hesitated. Calling a teacher would take time, and if Harry was anything like James, his sense of loyalty and adventure would far out trump his common sense.

_I hope so, anyway._

He reached the trapdoor under the Shrieking Shack—_urgh, déjà vu NOT needed there, thanks. Besides, last time I came here, I didn't have a thirteen-year-old kid with a broken leg trailing behind me_—and nudged it open.

The Weasley winced. "You're not normal," he said shrilly. "You're not a real animal…"

Sirius smirked. _Glad you noticed._

He dragged boy and rat across the floor and up the stairs, noticing the whimper that came with each stair and the bloodstains being left behind.

_At least it gives Harry a trail to follow._

A dozen years ago, he would have been revolted at himself for thoughts like that.

_A dozen years or so in Azkaban does that to people._

"What are you?" the boy whispered.

_You'll find out soon, kiddo._

Sirius located the door of the main bedroom, dragged his load into it, and deposited them beside the bed. Then, mentally grinning to himself, he all but pranced into the centre of the room and transformed back into human.

The boy's blue eyes couldn't get any wider. "Sirius Black! Y-you're an Animagus!"

"Clever," he said. Or he tried to—his voice came out in a hoarse croak, and he winced at the sound.

"You're after Harry!" the boy said again in his shrill voice. "You're setting a trap for him!"

Sirius shrugged. _It's the truth, I guess._

He retreated behind the door, trying not to contemplate any more meanings of the word 'truth'.

* * *

Remus hurtled through the castle, his left hand still clutching the map and his mind trying to solve the impossible enigma that had been presented to him. 

_Peter Pettigrew is dead. Sirius Black killed him._

_But the Map never lies. Peter Pettigrew is alive. Sirius Black __didn't_ kill him.

He could feel the answer, sense it, even, tantalizingly dancing out of reach. If only he could stretch out his hand and grasp it, instead of hopelessly groping around in the general direction. This was important, he knew it. This could provide the answer as to why he had been living in seclusion for twelve years, not even in contact with Aletha…

_Aletha._ Remus's heart gripped. He couldn't bear to think of what the latest year's news had been doing to her. He hadn't spoken to her since that impulsive whim to firecall her in the evening of 1st June, 1983, when he had caught her going out for a fly. They'd talked for a long time, and in the end decided to break off contact, but would always be there for one another in case they needed it.

_Last I heard, she's still working at the Ministry. I dropped her a line at the beginning of this year, telling her that I'm working at Hogwarts, but that's it for ten years…_

_Sirius was going to ask her to marry him,_ he remembered with a jolt. _God, even when he must have been spying, he was still his usual self…_

The answer that he had been seeking fluttered closer, but when he lunged for it, he still didn't reach it.

Remus reached the oak front doors and ran out into the sunset.

* * *

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us, too!" the Weasley boy—Ron, Harry'd called him—said fiercely to Sirius. 

Something stirred in his memory.

_"If he wants to kill Harry, he'll have to kill us, too…"_

_James,_ he thought, _do you see? Do you see your son and his friends, and are you proud? They're just like we were…_

"Lie down," he heard himself saying. "You'll damage that leg even more."

"Do you hear me?" Ron said, clinging to Harry while trying to stand on his broken leg. "You'll have to kill all three of us!"

Sirius thought of the Rat, connected it with the thought of Dead Rat, and grinned widely at the thought. "There'll only be one murder here tonight."

"Why's that? Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those muggles just to get at Pettigrew…What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

_He's got his mother's temper…_

"Harry! Be QUIET!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!"

Two thoughts were warring for dominance in his head. One was _How did he know that?_ and the other, which was winning, was _He's right. I did. And I am so stupid not to have seen it…_

In the few seconds it had taken for him to sort all that out, Harry had charged him, lunging forwards. Sirius fell backwards, the wands in his hand being forced away, his head first ringing from the blow to the side of it, then throbbing from its contact with the wall behind them. He twisted his arm and the wands in his hand sent off a load of sparks, missing Harry's face, while the boy was punching every place within reach on his body…

_Is this you, James? Is this my punishment for being so stupid?_

He wrenched his mind back on track.

_Wormtail dies. Tonight._

His right hand shot upwards and clutched at Harry's neck. "No…I've waited too long…"

Almost hating himself, he tightened his hand around his godson's throat. Harry choked—_I'm sorry James, but I need to get at Wormtail—_

And a foot came out of nowhere. _Crap. They're a feisty lot, aren't they?_

The next few moments passed in a blur. Trying to shield himself from two teenagers, noticing the wands had gone, wondering why on earth there was a _cat_ in his face, trying to get at Wormtail, who he could tell was in the boy's pocket…

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

Ron and the girl moved aside, both breathing heavily. Harry stood there, hair ruffled, glasses lopsided, green eyes burning with hate. In his hand he clutched his wand, pointing directly at him.

_I guess that's where the wands went, then._

"Going to kill me, Harry?"

* * *

Remus tore through the underground tunnel, trying to suppress the memories of the many times he had come down here in his Hogwarts days. 

The suppression wasn't working.

The first time he'd walked through here, he'd been scared stiff at the prospect. What if it wasn't strong enough? What if Dumbledore had underestimated the power of a transformed werewolf? What if some of the Hogsmeade villagers came to investigate? What if another student had seen him and Madam Pomfrey come through the Whomping Willow, and decided to follow?

Over the next few years, the walking down the tunnel had become a necessity; however, that didn't mean that each time he walked down there, he didn't have the twinges of nervousness, and dread at another transformation.

Then all of that had changed in his fifth year. Full moons were suddenly anticipated, eagerly awaited, enjoyed, and laughed about afterwards. All because of the three best friends he could ever have.

His three best friends…two dead, one turned a traitor. Or so he thought.

_Peter's showing up on the map…he's alive…but why?_

_Sirius killed him, along with twelve other people. Sirius murdered Peter, and spent twelve years in Azkaban for it…_

_But __Peter's not dead_! He's alive, on the map…how?

_Sirius was never the sort to break promises. And Peter never seemed the martyr-like. Maybe there's something in that._

_So, if Sirius never broke a promise, and Peter didn't go out to avenge James and Lily…_

His thought processes were shattered as he reached the Shack and flung himself onto the floor. He'd barely taken half a dozen steps towards the staircase when—

"WE'RE UP HERE! WE'RE UP HERE—SIRIUS BLACK—_QUICK!_"

_Hermione._

He ran up the stairs, dust showering from the ceiling and slipping off the stairs. His thundering footsteps were almost creating an avalanche within the old, broken-down house…

He was at the top of the stairs—he was looking around frantically for the room where the shout had come from—he was fumbling for his wand—the Map in his hand dropped to the floor—he was aiming his wand at the door of the master bedroom—he was wordlessly sending a spell to open the door—he was sprinting inside—

_Ron—Hermione—Harry—Cat—Sirius…Sirius._

"_Expelliarmus_!"

* * *

Sirius lay on the floor, trying to control his heavy breathing as he looked up into the cold blue eyes of his old best friend. He kept his face blank, staring up the wand Remus was pointing in his face. 

_It's over. Moony found out, he's here, he thinks I'm the bastard who was spying on James and Lily…_

"Where is he, Sirius?"

His mind snapped back to the present and Remus's strangled voice. He lost his blank expression momentarily as his eyes widened, realising what Remus had asked.

_No…_

Wiping his face again, keeping his eyes fixed on Remus's, he slowly raised his arm to point at where Ron was holding Wormtail.

"But then…" Remus muttered, staring into Sirius's eyes fiercely, searchingly, quellingly.

In Sirius's heart, fierce emotion was erupting, so strong he had never felt it before. _Come on Remus, think this over…_

"…why hasn't he shown himself before now?"

It was painful, keeping his face blank. It was painful, not letting himself open his mouth and blurt out the truth. It was painful, the way his heart was beating, beating with hope…hope against hope…

_You're getting there, I know you are, Moony…think it over, think about it…you'll only believe it if you work it out for yourself…_

* * *

He was there, he was staring the answer in the face but he couldn't work it out. Sirius was here, his old best friend…the first time he had seen him since before 1981. And despite his painfully thin appearance, despite his half-crazed expression, Sirius was unlocking thoughts that Remus had never let himself examine. 

_Sirius was the most loyal friend that could be wished for, especially when it came down to people's lives. Maybe if the Snape incident had never happened…he beat himself up for weeks after that, it made him realise exactly how important lives are and how easily a bit of irresponsibility and recklessness could destroy one…_

_So, in all, the Sirius that I knew for around ten years would __never_ have given James away. Even if he had gone over, at least some of us would have noticed. He was always his old self, just getting slightly more sombre as the war escalated…but everyone was doing that. Everyone was getting serious…

_Especially Wormtail. He'd always be so down…he'd disappear and we'd never know where he was…he was so quiet and even more jumpy than usual, looking over his shoulder whenever we were in company…_

He stopped. His mind was ringing alarm bells at him. Finally, entering dawn after twelve years of night, he reached out his hand and grasped the answer.

* * *

"Unless—unless _he_ was the one…unless you switched…without telling me?" 

_Oh YES! You're still going good, Moony!_

Aware that his eyes were breaking down, that the walls built from twelve years of hell were crumbling, he nodded, slowly, painstakingly, never looking away from his last friend's face.

Harry was saying something, but he didn't hear…his heart was beating out ecstatic rhythms as Moony lowered his wand and pulled him up. Crookshanks fell to the floor…and Moony embraced him.

* * *

Twelve years of darkness, solitude and hell seemed to diminish in that moment, for both of them. It was true that neither of them would ever recover, but from that instant, the sun fully rose and the two friends—the two brothers—were reunited.

* * *

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" 

Remus let go of Sirius at the sound of Hermione's screech. She had gotten off the floor and was staring at Sirius with a strange expression on her face. "You—you…" She twirled around frustratedly and tugged at her hair. The action was strangely familiar to Sirius. "Where's Danger when you need her! Thirteen years of stupid comments in my mind when I least needed them, then _now_ it's one of the times when she should really be here, and she's NOT!"

Harry and Ron were staring at Hermione as though she had lost her mind. Sirius could honestly say that he felt the same way.

"Who—Danger?" he heard himself say, rather stupidly.

"Yes, Danger, my older sister who technically died a dozen or so years ago but has been in my head since I was six months gestation and who I've grown up with in my head ever since and who I didn't even tell my parents about because she told me not to and who has helped me so much and who finally left after a _certain_ meeting in a _certain_ carriage of a _certain_ train with a _certain_ professor!" Hermione actually stamped her foot, causing a small dustfall from the ceiling.

"Er…Hermione?" Ron asked weakly, staring at his friend.

Sirius's head was spinning so much that he barely noticed Remus sink to against the wall behind him, guffawing so hard he could barely breathe. After blinking at the ranting girl, he turned to look at his friend, completely bewildered. "What's going on?" he croaked.

"Danger's probably hitting herself for leaving nine months too early," Remus choked out, tears leaking out of his eyes. "I guess she got Hermione to look up what happened in 1981, it's too obvious after she started hearing about the Boy Who Lived…oh, how she would want to hug you and hit you herself…" And he succumbed to laughter once more.

_No help there, then._

"WHAT'S GOING ON?"

Harry was standing up, looking furious at the sudden turn of events. Hermione was cut off mid-rant, and after a few attempts, Remus got his laughing under control.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized into the silence.

"What's going on?" Harry repeated, staring at her.

"It's…a long story," she replied inanely. "But let me do this first, for Danger." She walked up to Sirius and hugged him, tight.

_What in the name of freaking Merlin—_

"She never thought that you did it," Hermione whispered. "She was in total disbelief, and couldn't believe it, but we couldn't get access to any more information and so she couldn't do anything about it…"

_I don't get it._

Hermione let go of him, then looked him over. "And I'd hit you if you didn't look only one step from a skeleton," she proclaimed in her normal voice.

"Hermione!" Both Harry and Ron looked scandalized.

_Well, she did just walk up to a supposed mad mass-murderer and hug him…_

"You're confusing all three of them, Hermione," Remus's voice came from behind them. Sirius, Harry and Ron both jumped, and Sirius turned around. Remus now looked as calm as ever, though a small grin still decorated his features.

"Sorry." Hermione gave an impish grin and turned back to Ron, who grasped for her hand and yanked her behind him with a whisper of "Have you gone crazy?"

Sirius stared at his best friend. "Explain." He blinked and looked around at Harry, who had just said the same thing to Hermione.

Remus grinned. "Do you want to have the honour or should I, Hermione?" he asked.

"Oh, go ahead, _Professor_. And stop looking at me like that, Harry, you're about to get some answers."

"About bloody time," Sirius heard Harry mumbling, and couldn't help but agree.

"Oh, before I forget, Harry—" Remus groped around in his pocket and pulled out something soft and silvery. "I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow, and thought that you might want it back."

Harry's eyes went wide at the sight, and Sirius didn't blame him.

_Is that James's Invisibility Cloak? But I thought Dumbledore had it last…_

"How did you know this was mine?" Harry asked warily, gingerly taking the cloak back from Remus.

Remus waved a hand dismissively. "The number of times I saw James disappearing under it—"

"You _knew_—" Harry stopped, looking at Remus suspiciously. "Oh. You told me once, you were friends at Hogwarts…"

"Yes," Remus nodded. "Close friends."

Sirius fought the urge to snort.

"How did you know we were here?" Ron asked suddenly from the floor, as though he had just thought of the question.

"The Map, the Marauder's Map—"

"How'd you know how to work it?"

Sirius suppressed another snort, while another part of his mind realised how Remus had been able to figure out the truth. _The Map shows anyone, whether they're under cloaks or transformed as animals._

"Hang on—the Map!" Remus suddenly said, and darted outside to the landing. Sirius had barely blinked at the dust cloud he imagined he could see before his friend was back, holding a very familiar piece of old parchment.

"You _dropped_ the Map?"

"I was busy getting my wand out, thank you very much!"

"Professor," Hermione interjected politely before Sirius could snort at Moony's last sentence. "Weren't you going to explain?"

"Yes, I was."

"Doing a great job of it," Sirius muttered under his breath. Harry jumped slightly and Ron twitched—only then did he remember that he was supposed to be a humorless murderer.

* * *

Remus was trying to keep a straight face, but couldn't fight the grin his mouth insisted on turning in. He felt like he was in seventh heaven—Sirius was here, Sirius was innocent, Peter was within reach and Hermione—well. He knew that Hermione wasn't Danger, and wasn't planning on thinking it, but he was definitely going to strike up contact with David and Rose again. 

But he pulled his mind back to task—de-confusing the two confused teenagers.

"Something happened when I was a young boy," he said, directing his words towards Harry and Ron. "An accident, on my part, but it changed my life forever." He took a deep breath. _I always hate this part…_ "I got bitten by a werewolf."

There was a ringing silence.

"But…" Ron said, as though trying to figure out what he meant. "That means you're a werewolf as well…"

Remus nodded. "I am."

Harry stared at him, then glanced over at Hermione, who was utterly unsurprised at the news. After an uneasy few seconds having a silent conversation with Hermione, he looked back at Remus with a clear _It's only because of her that I'm trusting you_ look on his face.

"Transformations into a werewolf are…awful," he continued. "It is extremely painful to be forced into another shape against your will. Even now, with the Wolfsbane potion that I take each month which allows me to keep control of my mind, the pain each month is almost unbearable.

"I received the bite at four years old, and it had always seemed from then that it was impossible for me to attend Hogwarts. However, Dumbledore became Headmaster, and everything changed. He knew that I was a werewolf, and yet he approached me himself to give me my letter, explaining the precautions that had been taken. My family was extremely touched, and so I set off for school.

"I'd mentioned to you, Harry, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I entered Hogwarts. The plain truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. The tree, the tunnel, this house…it was all done for me, as was the rumour that this Shack is haunted. The screams and howls that the villagers heard were me; the wolf denied meat is known the self-mutilate."

Harry and Ron both looked slightly sickened.

"But despite the monthly transformations that I could never get used to, Hogwarts was the happiest stage of my life. For the first time ever, I had friends…Sirius," he nodded his head in said friend's direction, "your dad, James," his nod went to Harry, "…and Peter Pettigrew."

"Hang on," Ron said, hoisting himself up slightly. "Isn't Pettigrew supposed to be the one who Black killed?"

Remus winced. "Keep a firm hand on your rat, Ron," he said quietly, "and yes, he's the one _supposed_ to have been killed."

Hermione put a hand on her nonplussed friend's shoulder. Remus couldn't help but grin as he remembered what Danger had told him in the train carriage.

"My school days were filled with fun and excitement," Remus continued. "The four of us were bright and mischievous, and almost terrorised the school with pranks. James and Sirius worked out my secret by second year—to tell the truth, I hadn't been concealing it terribly well," Remus admitted. "I'd say that my mother was ill, and had to go home…it was only a matter of time before someone noticed that I disappeared every full moon. But instead of turning their backs on me, they did something far more valuable and loyal. They became Animagi."

"My dad as well?" Harry asked, and mixture of awe and confusion in his expression.

"Yes. Werewolves are only a danger to humans—with other animals, they are quite harmless. By fifth year, James, Peter and Sirius were coming to full moon nights with me. Not long after that, we'd started abandoning the Shrieking Shack and wandering Hogwarts and Hogsmeade at night. We thought ourselves truly invincible, the masters of the school…we called ourselves the Marauders."

Both Harry and Ron gasped. Hermione looked rather smug.

"Our night time exploits had let us discover many secret passageways in and out of the castle. We decided to fashion a map, showing what we had found, and signed it with our Marauder nicknames. Myself, Moony, the werewolf; Peter, Wormtail, the rat; Sirius, Padfoot, the dog…and James, Prongs, the stag."

Harry definitely looked in awe by now, his eyes stretching wide.

"But that was only half of the excitement of my school days. The other half came in the form of three girls; Lily Evans, Aletha Freeman, and Danger Granger."

Ron snorted. Hermione hit him on the back of the head.

"Her real name was Gertrude, but she rarely went by it," Remus elaborated. "And as you may have guessed, she was Hermione's sister."

"You never said you had a sister!" Ron exclaimed to Hermione, while Harry said excitedly, "Evans is my mum's maiden name?"

"It's complicated," Hermione said to Ron while Remus nodded at Harry.

"James chased after Lily endlessly, being rebuffed every which way until seventh year. Sirius and Letha argued and bickered, Sirius alternating between asking her out and insulting her. And I…I fell hopelessly in love with Danger, a Muggle-born girl two years younger than me. Of course, I didn't dare tell her so—what could any girl expect out of me, with my condition—but she worked it out herself, the same way James and Sirius did. In my seventh year, her fifth, we became an official couple.

"By the end of her sixth year, she started to study for an Animagus transformation. I told her, and myself, that I would marry her when she finished it. But that plan went plummeting the first full moon after her seventh year had finished." Remus closed his eyes, remembering that awful morning…the emptiness, the rage… "She had been walking outside her house, and was murdered. By another werewolf. She had obviously fought back—there were tufts of fur in her hands when she was found—and I took those tufts of hair, remembered the scent of Danger's murderer, and killed him in his lair."

Hermione gasped, eyes wide. "You—really?"

_Of course. Danger wouldn't have known that._

"Except—Danger hadn't really died," he continued. "I had a dream, that night after she was killed, where she told me that she couldn't leave me, and that we would meet again. Now, I understand what she meant…her soul traveled to the growing being in her mother's womb, who granted her mindspace." He smiled wryly. "And so, Danger Granger, my love, cheated death for thirteen years."

Ron was staring at Hermione warily. "You mean…your sister's been in your mind, ever since before you were born, and you never told anyone?"

"Would anyone have believed it?" Hermione shot back.

"Well no…but…blimey!"

"So why did she leave?" Harry asked loudly.

Remus smiled. "She'd fulfilled her goal, and we'd met again. There was no point in her staying any longer."

"So what happened in that train carriage, on the way to school?" Harry asked suspiciously, looking between Remus and Hermione. "On second thought," he added hastily when neither of them answered immediately, "I don't want to know."

"Neither do I," croaked a voice over by the bed. Sirius was looking slightly nauseated, but was staring at Hermione in wonder. "You lived with Danger in your head for thirteen years? Well done. I couldn't've done it."

Remus sighed, picked out his own wand from the four he held in his hand, and shot a toe-curling hex in the space between Sirius's left shoulder and ear. His friend didn't even bother to dodge.

"Okay," Harry said, brow furrowed. "What were you two talking about, just when you came in?" he asked.

"Ah." Remus looked over at Sirius. "I'll need your help for this one, Padfoot, I don't know the whole story."

Sirius had lain down on the bed, arms over his eyes. "I'll chip in whenever you need me to," he said. "And Ron—that's your name, isn't it?—keep a very firm hold of your rat."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" Ron asked frustratedly.

"You'll find out," Hermione said quietly.

"Time went on, and became darker," Remus continued with his narration. "Voldemort was hunting people down and killing them mercilessly. One of his targets was you, Harry. You and your family."

"We've heard this," Ron interrupted loudly. "They went under the Fidelius Charm, with Black as the Secret-Keeper—"

"_That's a lie_," Sirius whispered harshly from the bed. He took his arms away from his face and pushed himself up from the bed. "That was the plan," he said, his hoarse voice seemingly already straining from overuse. "I was supposed to be the Secret-Keeper. I knew I wasn't the spy, and James did as well—"

"You thought it was me." Remus closed his eyes and felt the words echo around his hollow insides. Even when he had finally realised the truth, he hadn't recognised—or rather, didn't want to recognise the reason why he had never known of this plot, why he was the only one who wasn't involved…

* * *

Sirius felt like kicking himself. He had just been reunited with Remus, and prized the friendship above all else. He didn't want to hurt him, no matter how true the accusation was. 

"I'm sorry." It was all he could say. He _could_ list all the reasons for the suspicions, and _could_ apologize profusely and elaborately…but he couldn't.

Remus opened his eyes. "No, carry on," he said flatly.

_Dammit, he's gone all masked again…_

With one last mental kick to himself, he turned back to the story.

"But Dumbledore was wary, and suspicious. He knew that there was a spy within the Order of the Phoenix—that's the organisation of the Light side," he added for Harry's and Ron's benefits, "but he didn't know who it was. And so he all but begged James and Lily to make their protection more secure, less obvious who was their Secret-Keeper…so they did. They decided to change Secret-Keepers at the last minute, and everyone else continued thinking that it was me. In truth, though, we had walked straight into the trap. We had made the spy the Secret-Keeper."

"Who was it?" asked Harry, hanging on to every word being spoken.

"Peter Pettigrew. I tracked him down the next day, after going to Godric's Hollow the night before. The minute I saw the cottage, completely destroyed, and James and Lily's bodies…I knew. I knew what had happened, that Petie had betrayed us…and he set me up, the little rat. He shouted out for the entire street to hear that _I_ was the spy, that _I_ had handed James and Lily over to Voldemort, then the sorry little coward blasted apart half of the street with his wand behind his back, cut off his finger and transformed into a rat."

"So he's alive?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"Alive, which is far more than he deserves," said Sirius.

"You know him, Harry," Remus said quietly. "You've seen him every day for the last three years."

"A rat with a finger, or toe in form, missing," repeated Hermione.

Everyone turned to look at Ron, who was staring at them, wide-eyed. "_Scabbers_? But Scabbers has been in my family for—"

"Thirteen years," said Sirius. "Extraordinary long life for a common garden rat, don't you think?"

Ron pulled out the grey furball, fingers clamped tightly around its body while it squeaked and squirmed, trying to escape. He spent a few moments just staring at it, before asking in a strangled voice, "How can you check?"

"Fortunately," Remus said, rolling up his sleeves, "there exists a simple spell. Oh, and you might like these back." He threw Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands back to their respective owners.

"Do you want to do the spell as well, Padfoot?" Hermione asked as she caught her own wand. "You can borrow this if you want, as long as you don't damage it."

"You can bet I won't," Sirius said, a grin spreading across his face as he nabbed Hermione's wand out of the air. "Thank you."

"Ready, Sirius?" Remus was asking, his left hand full of struggling rat.

"Together?" Sirius asked quietly, aware that his eyes were burning into the image of Wormtail.

"I think so. On the count of three. One—two—THREE!"

* * *

Remus felt light-headed as they traveled along the underground passageway. Life hadn't looked so good in a long time—Sirius was innocent, he was reunited with the Grangers, Harry knew the whole story and the true traitor was going to be brought to justice at last. All that needed to be done now was for Aletha to be alerted, Sirius to have a good few square meals, and it could honestly be said that he would be happier than he ever thought he could be again. 

Those times at Hogwarts really were the best of his life, Remus reflected. He'd had friends he would do anything for, and who would do anything for him. And when seventh year rolled round, when he and Danger got together, even his monthly transformations didn't seem so bad. He only wished that he'd confessed his love before, so that they could've had more time together…more bliss…

Remus frowned. Somewhere in that train of thought he'd shot by something, something important.

_Right. Start from the end, go backwards._

_More time with Danger, confessing my love earlier._ Something he thought about a lot, but he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the alarm bells in his head now.

_When we got together, even transforming not seeming so bad._ It was true, Remus reflected. Love did that, love was so strong it made everything else fade in comparison…

_Wait. Transformations. Full moons._

_Tonight!_

He stopped short in the tunnel and swore, loudly. "You all go on ahead," he said hastily. "Keep hold of Peter, make sure he does nothing clever—"

"What are you talking about, Moony?" asked Sirius, cutting over him.

Hermione made a small sound, gasping as her eyes shot wide open. "It's full moon tonight, isn't it?" she asked.

"You're joking!" said Ron, unbalanced as he was and being supported by Harry.

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Wormtail shrinking. "Oh no you _don't_, Peter," he said, conjuring a cage around the rat just as he finished transforming. Quickly, he put Unbreakable charms and an anti-Transformation ward on the metal bars.

"Quick work," Sirius said, impressed.

"Thank you, Mr. Padfoot."

"Did you take the potion?" Hermione asked worriedly, looking at her watch.

"No, Severus was supposed to bring it around. Look, I'm staying here, you all go on ahead, speak to Dumbledore…"

"I'm not leaving you behind, Remus," said Sirius, folding his arms and looking very much like a teenager again. "Besides, it'll be just like old times again, won't it?"

Remus glared at him. _He's in his stubborn mood, there's no point arguing…but can I really let him do this?_ "No offence, Sirius, but you're really not at the peak of physical fitness right now and the wolf's not going to be overjoyed with me for keeping it reined in with the potion for so long."

"And what will we be doing? It'll just be inside the Shack, we won't be going anywhere. Stop arguing, Remus. If I'm not there, you'll probably self-mutilate again, but if I go we might as well have some fun."

"Fun for you, maybe," muttered Remus.

Hermione nudged his elbow. "Listen to him," she said. "There's not much time left, and the wolf will remember Padfoot from your Hogwarts days."

She had a point, Remus admitted. "All right. You three—" he directed his words at Harry, Ron and Hermione, "—take the cage and run for it. Go to Dumbledore's office, it's—"

"I know where it is," Harry interrupted, rearranging his grip on Ron. "I went there last year."

"Good." _I want to hear this story, but later._ "List off every sweet you know, and if you stand there for long enough Dumbledore will be alerted anyway."

"Remus," Sirius said warningly.

"I'm coming, Sirius. See you all tomorrow," he said over his shoulder as he jogged back up the tunnel, side by side with Sirius. He heard Hermione levitating the cage in front of them as the teenagers proceeded back towards Hogwarts, with Harry helping Ron hobble along.

"I need to ask you something," Sirius said to him quietly.

"Letha?"

Sirius nodded.

"She's fine," Remus said, and saw years lift off Sirius's face. "Probably not holding up too well, what with working in DMLE during this manhunt for you, but I'm sure she'll be pleased to hex you into next year once you get cleared."

"I'll be pleased to just see her," was the reply. "I lost her, you know," Sirius said quietly, pain clouding his eyes again. "Her face, all the good times we'd had together. I'd see her, I'd see you, I'd see James and Lily, but always in nightmares, all of you either dead and rotting or completely twisted with hate…and then I'd lose those images, as well. I'd just remember the words from the nightmares, and the expressions, but I could never call up the faces…"

Remus shivered as they reached the trapdoor, thankful that Sirius didn't seem to expect him to say anything. What _could_ he say, in reply to that?

The two men made their way back up the staircase, after shutting the trapdoor firmly behind them. Remus winced as he felt his bones tingling. "Not long now," he murmured.

He didn't have the potion with him tonight, the potion upon which he'd been dependant for almost a year. It had been invented long before he'd started teaching at Hogwarts, of course, but he neither wanted to buy the expensive premade bottles which were probably poisoned and would blatantly advertise his condition, or buy the ingredients and make the potion himself. The product would, most likely, end up more toxic that any werewolf-haters could dream of.

But having other animals there had always seemed to calm him down. He was dimly aware of Sirius shifting into Padfoot beside him as he felt the beginnings of another painful transformation wrack his body and his mind sank into oblivion for the first time in months.

* * *

On Friday morning, Aletha Freeman was woken up at an ungodly hour by an owl demanding to be let in at her window. 

_Whoever sent that darn bird had better be prepared for a lot of pain,_ she grumbled to herself mentally as she swung herself out of bed, turning on the lights with a flick of her wand and groaning at the clock that she could now suddenly see a lot clearer. _Just gone dawn. Who the hell needs to get in contact with me this badly?_

"I'm coming, I'm coming…" she muttered, making her way over to the window and opening it, taking a closer look at the owl while she was at it. "My, you're a handsome creature, I don't think I've seen you before…" She untied the small piece of parchment around its leg. "Now make yourself useful. There're a few rats in the garden, go get rid of them."

The owl hooted at her and flew back out of the window, which she closed behind it firmly. The sun might be rising, but the air outside was still chilly.

Aletha yawned again and blinked her eyes groggily before returning to the letter in her hands. Unfolding it, she got a surprise—it was written in the elegant hand of the Hogwarts Headmaster.

_Aletha—_

_I believe that a trip to the school as soon as possible will be highly beneficial and enjoyable for you._

_—Albus Dumbledore_

She stared down at the one-lined message for a few seconds, then blinked again, even turned the parchment over to see if there was anything else.

_What on earth?_

_'Highly beneficial and enjoyable'? And how is anything that I get woken up for at ridiculous-o'clock going to be anything resembling beneficial and enjoyable?_

Aletha was severely tempted to throw the note in the bin and climb back into bed, but, nutty as Dumbledore may seem at times, he usually had a good reason.

_Good reason for him, anyway._

She glanced at her clock again. _I have work in a few hours, and I can't afford to be late…my hold on this house is tenuous at best, and they uncovered my connection to Sirius a few days ago—_

She halted that train of thought before it went onto rails that she had closed off a long time ago.

_Oh, fine. I'll go. It'd better be good, though…_

The small piece of parchment was thrown down onto the bedside table, her wand clattered down next to it, and Aletha herself went into her bathroom for a quick shower and other morning necessities.

_I'd prefer it if nobody can see how badly this year's taken its toll on me._

She could remember clearly the shock that she'd felt, when the news was first broken. It was lucky that she hadn't been holding anything at the time, or her reaction would have been noticed immediately by the people around her. As it was, she'd gone through the next few days, alternately wondering where Sirius was, how he was, if she'd gone crazy by still thinking of him like that, and when he'd show up on her doorstep, ready to finish her off.

The days had passed with terror, the weeks with nail-biting worry, and the months with both relief and nervousness at when he was going to make his move.

_It's been almost a year, and there've only been a few sightings of him. How much longer is he going to keep this up?_

Aletha finished in the bathroom and went back out into her bedroom, choosing to wear her work robes. She didn't know how long she was going to be at Hogwarts, after all.

She checked herself in the mirror as she tucked the note from Dumbledore into her pocket and picked up her wand, making sure she was presentable. She decided against attempting to make herself breakfast—twelve years of living alone hadn't improved her culinary skills any, and she was going to Hogwarts, where she could make a detour to the kitchens for breakfast.

Her fireplace burst into flames when she pointed her wand at it, and she threw a pinch of Floo powder in it.

"Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!"

Dumbledore turned around when she stepped out of the fireplace in the circular office, smiling warmly. "Ah, Aletha. You came."

"Yes I did, Professor," she replied, trying to sound polite and annoyed at the same time. "May I inquire as to why, specifically, at this hour?"

Her old headmaster smiled enigmatically and motioned for her to sit down in front of his desk, while he himself settled in his chair behind it. "I am afraid that answering that question requires telling a tale, and a rather long one at that," he said.

Aletha felt her eyebrows rise.

"Last night," the Dumbledore began, "I was visited, just after moonrise, by three students and a rat. The three of them were Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Miss Granger was levitating a curious metal cage in front of her with an almost hysterical rat within. They then told me an astounding story of where they had spent the evening, with whom, and where those people were at the moment."

Just from that single paragraph, Aletha had dozens of questions flitting around in her mind. "Hermione Granger—Danger's sister?"

"Very good," Dumbledore said, nodding.

"Isn't Remus teaching Defence this year?" she asked.

"Yes, he is."

_Poor Remus. How many demons must have been set free, with Danger's sister and James's son in the same class._

"So," she said at last, "where were they and who were they with?"

"Their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and an old friend."

"Remus and—hang on, wasn't last night a full moon?"

Dumbledore inclined his head, blue eyes twinkling away. "Yes, it was."

Aletha thought back. _Yes, he did say that they visited him just after moonrise._ "Okay," she said slowly, getting rather frustrated at the game the Headmaster seemed to be playing with her. "Where were they?"

"In the Shrieking Shack."

"They better have got out before Remus transformed!"

He gave a small laugh. "Yes, they did. They are, after all, unharmed for the most part."

Aletha shook her head. It was too early to be playing these word games. "So what's the rat got to do with anything?"

"Ah. There lies the heart of the matter."

Her head jolted up. "The rat?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "The cage upon which he arrived in was charmed to be Unbreakable and had anti-transformation wards placed upon it."

"Animagus transformations? The rat was an Animagus?" Aletha was trying not to think of the only other rat Animagus she had known.

"Yes. By the name of Peter Pettigrew."

_Okay, it seems I have no choice on the thinking about him._ "But he's dead! He was killed twelve years ago!"

"It would seem not," Dumbledore replied.

Aletha tried to wrap her mind this newest nugget of information. It was shocking, impossible, beyond comprehension… "But Sirius killed him," she heard herself say quietly, feeling her heart contract painfully.

Dumbledore's tone changed subtly. "Aletha, tell me what you know about events in October and November, 1981."

"Well," she said, still feeling rather bewildered, "James and Lily were going into hiding, because they'd found out that You-Know-Who was coming after them. They used the Fidelius Charm, with Sirius as their Secret-Keeper…and he betrayed them," she said bitterly. "You-Know-Who killed James and Lily on Halloween night. Peter tracked down Sirius the next day, half-crazed, and Sirius blew him up as well as half of the street they had been standing in."

Twelve years to get used to the event hadn't made it any less painful.

"That story, Aletha," Dumbledore said quietly, "is wrong. Sirius Black was never the Potters' Secret-Keeper."

"_What?_" Aletha started to rise from her chair, staring at her old Headmaster.

_But that makes no sense—James trusted Sirius so much, why would they not make Sirius the Secret-Keeper?_

Little snatches of the past few minutes ran through her mind.

_"…an astounding story of where they had spent the evening, with whom…"_

_ "…Their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and an old friend…"_

_"…But he was killed twelve years ago!"_

_"It would seem not…"_

_"…an old friend…"_

"Professor," she said, now standing up but not fully noticing, "_do you know where Sirius Black is?_"

"Yes, I do," he said calmly, also rising. "I can take you to him now."

* * *

_People take things like comfortable beds for granted._

_They really shouldn't._

Sirius luxuriated in the warm, soft sheets of the hospital wing bed, feeling better than he had in a long, long time.

Dumbledore had obviously explained the situation to Madame Pomfrey, who had taken him and Remus into the infirmary that morning without a batting of the eyelid. Harry and Hermione were huddled around Ron's bed at the other end of the room, talking in whispers. Sirius guessed that the two boys were interrogating Hermione on what it was like, having a voice in your head.

_I'd like to know myself, personally. Hermione must be an amazing witch._

He closed his eyes and thought back to the previous night. Remus's prediction about the wolf's anger had been correct, but after a few minutes of wrestling between them, Moony had obviously recognised Padfoot. Sirius was pretty sure that werewolves wouldn't be able to transfer the current human situation into their animal form, but after one final cuff on the nose from the werewolf's claws, Moony had backed off, dancing around slightly and nudging Padfoot's flank with his nose. The message couldn't have been clearer.

Play with me.

And so they had. The two canines had raced all the way through the Shrieking Shack, barking and howling. They'd tussled around with no real rancour, jumped on the bed, played chase with no definite quarry or pursuer…

He could almost believe it was just like old times.

"Padfoot?" The hoarse voice came from the next bed.

"You're awake, then, Moony."

"Yes." Sirius opened his eyes and turned around to see Remus getting in a more comfortable position. "That was the best full moon I've had in a long time."

"Even without the potion?"

"The potion means I'm conscious through the change, which is bloody painful. It was always best to have hazy recollections of what happened." Remus sighed happily. "Nothing else did happen, did it? Just romping in the Shack?"

"That was all."

"Do you know what happened to Wormtail?"

"Yes. Dumbledore told me." Sirius grinned widely, his face still getting used to the motion. "He's at the ministry."

"Yes…" Remus would probably jump to his feet and start dancing if he'd had the energy, Sirius thought. "Have they identified him yet?"

"It is only a matter of time," another voice interrupted, as the tall figure of the Headmaster came into view.

"Headmaster!"

"Good morning, Remus. I trust you are feeling better?"

"Er…yes, I am." Moony paused, then started speaking again. "Headmaster—"

"Miss Granger and Misters Weasley and Potter have already explained everything to me, Remus, there is no need for you to say anything more." If it wasn't for the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye, Sirius would be feeling very strongly rebuked.

Remus cast a look down the ward at the three teenagers, who immediately tried to look as though they hadn't been eavesdropping.

"I must say, I am very impressed that you managed to keep such an extraordinary achievement from me in your Hogwarts days. Amazing work, all of you."

The two Marauders exchanged startled looks, then broke into grins. "Thank you, sir," they said together.

"Now, I believe that I have a meeting with the _Daily Prophet_ editors and the Minister for Magic, so I take my leave." Sirius's grin went wider. "And Sirius—" Dumbledore turned around at the door. "Good luck."

"'Good luck'? What—" He had barely finished the thought when the other person waiting behind the hospital wing doors stepped in.

_Oh dear._

"Explain," said the newcomer in a clipped voice, her wand pointing at his chest.

"I guess that a 'Hi, Sirius, I've missed you' is too much to ask for," he grumbled, sitting up in bed.

Remus snorted. Aletha's mouth twitched. "If your explanation is good enough, that can come later."

"Promise?"

"Get those puppy-dog eyes of yours off of me and start talking."

"How much do you already know?" Remus asked hastily, before Sirius could come out with his "Yes ma'am."

"Only that Peter Pettigrew is alive and apparently Sirius wasn't Lily and James's Secret-Keeper."

"Can't you work it out for yourself?" Sirius whined. He felt that his insides had been filled with helium. _Letha's here, Letha's here, Letha's here…_ His inner dog was chasing its tail.

Suddenly he was aware that he was being fixed with a stare. "It is too-damned-early in the morning for me to want to use my brain," she told him. Her wand waved threateningly towards him.

"We switched," he told her quickly. "It was supposed to be a foolproof plan—just before we were about the cast the Fidelius, we thought that we should have a decoy, another layer of security. The world would carry on thinking that I was the Secret-Keeper, but in fact, it was Peter."

"Ah…" Aletha closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "And Peter was the spy, then, wasn't he?"

Sirius nodded.

"And that street scene would've been Peter blowing everything up and transforming." Aletha's eyes were closed and her wand was coming down. Sirius couldn't resist.

"Hey, you figured it out! You _can_ think in the mornings!"

The wand came back up. Sirius swallowed. _Whoops._

"And you didn't think to tell _anyone_ about this switch?" she asked him dangerously.

He shook his head meekly. "The only people who knew were James, Lily, Peter and me."

"_Why?_"

"We didn't want to tell anyone—anyone could've been the spy. I'm not saying I suspected you!" he said hastily. "But if you knew, and were captured…" He trailed off, staring at her beseechingly.

Her wand hand wavered.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

Aletha seemed to crumple before their eyes, and before Sirius knew it, she was in his arms. "You could have just _told_ someone," she said shakingly in his ear, her eyes threatening to spill any second. "Told _anyone_—me, Remus, Dumbledore—and everyone could've been spared twelve years of pain…"

"I know," he said roughly, wrapping his arms around her tightly. _God, but I've missed this…_ "I know. I'm sorry."

* * *

Soon, Harry, Ron and Hermione would come over to join the remainder of the Marauders and Co. Hermione would tell Aletha about Danger living in her head for thirteen years, and Letha would rue breaking off contact with the Grangers. The six of them would strike a friendship, tentative at first. 

The _Daily Prophet_ would arrive, announcing the capture of one Peter Pettigrew and the innocence of Sirius Black. The wizarding world would stand still in shock, while Madam Pomfrey nursed Sirius back to health before Remus and Aletha chased him over Hogwarts with jinxes and hexes.

David and Rose Granger would be met at King's Cross station not just by their youngest daughter, but the two closest friends of their eldest daughter as well, both of whom they'd never thought they would see again. Trailing behind the party would be a big black dog, its tongue hanging out and looking almost delirious with happiness.

The Grangers, Aletha, Remus and Sirius would talk together for hours, explaining and reminiscing, laughing and crying.

None of them would ever heal completely from the dozen years of pretence, solitude and hell.

But that didn't stop them taking steps along the path.

* * *

**A/N:** You like? You hate? You confused? Whatever. Review.

Oh, and I disclaim the few lines in the middle which I stole shamelessly from PoA. And there're probably a couple of lines in there which I stole from one Dangerverse story or another, so if there are, I disclaim those as well. :-P


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